


I Always Come When You Call (Destiel)

by notgingerandrude



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of a Case, Anal Sex, Angel Healing, Blood and Injury, Body Worship, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Grinding, Hair-pulling, Hunt Gone Wrong, Injury, M/M, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Quickies, Riding, Smut, Stubborn Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Topping from the Bottom, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 22:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30078981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notgingerandrude/pseuds/notgingerandrude
Summary: Sam and Dean limp back to a hotel after a crippling hunt, but Dean refuses to call Cas for help.Fortunately, the angel always seems to know when he’s needed.
Relationships: Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	I Always Come When You Call (Destiel)

Dean’s thighs were burning with every step he took. But he kept going. His duffle slipped off of his right shoulder and stopped for a moment to hoist it back up. Sam didn’t look so good either. The hunt had been a brutal one. His brother had bags under his eyes and dirt smeared over his face. It had gotten into the cut on his cheekbone, where he’d been thrown onto the concrete, and mixed steadily with the drying blood racing to his chin.

Dean could feel something out of place on his left. Probably his shoulder. It was hard to tell. The white out pain that came with every moment made him force his left arm to stay slack at his side. Sam would need to drive. When he finally caught sight of the Impala, he could have wept with relief. He turned to his brother and tossed him the keys. Sam caught them in one, scraped, hand and gave him a tight smile.

The dumped their bags in the trunk and Dean moved to sit in the passenger seat before Sam had even opened the driver door.

The ride back to the motel was silent, save one of Dean’s tapes playing quietly, as Dean curled into the passenger door. He could tell that Sam was avoiding any pot holes, and he was thankful. Sam unlocked their motel door and pushed it open for his brother. Dean heard him cough wetly as he walked in. That probably wasn’t good. He sat on one of the beds and felt the cheap mattress sink under his weight. Sam dropped their bags on the floor between their beds. Dean turned to him.

“Can you pop it back in?” Dean asked him. Sam looked at his brother’s limp arm and frowned.  
“Why don’t you just call him?” Sam countered. Dean scowled.  
“I don’t need to call  _him_ every time I need help,” Dean said, “I’m not a freaking damsel in distress.”  
“He’d want to help, Dean,” Sam said. “I’m going to shower. You call your boyfriend.” He grabbed a motel towel and closed the bathroom door behind him.  
“I’m not calling Cas!” Dean shouted after him, just to make sure he heard.

He felt a gust of wind next to him.  


“Hello, Dean,” a familiar voice greeted him. Dean jumped slightly, but ignored the flash of pain to glare at the angel.  
“What are you doing here?” Dean asked rhetorically. Cas stared at him blankly, but Dean could see the pinch of hurt in his eyes.  
“You called me,” Cas replied. Dean heard the shower kick into life with a splutter and a whine.  
“I didn’t,” Dean shot back. Castiel placed a careful hand on Dean’s thigh. Dean felt the familiar, healing warmth flood his body. His shoulder snapped back into place, painlessly, of its own accord. Every trace of pain dissolved in seconds. Even the crick in his neck he’d woken up with was gone. Dean frowned. “Don’t waste your grace like that, Cas,” he said. Cas didn’t move his hand. The other once came up behind him to rub his back gently.  
“It’s not a waste,” the angel replied. Blue eyes bore into green. “You’re not a waste.” Dean felt his cheeks heat up.  
“Come on, man,” he whispered, “Don’t do that to me.” The hand on his back moved upward to cup his jaw, and the one on his thigh dragged across rough denim to inch higher.

“You’re beautiful, Dean,” Cas said softly. Dean’s stomach twisted.  
“Cas…”  
“So beautiful,” the angel repeated. He tilted his head in invitation, and Dean took the bait. He kissed him gently, and turned on the bed slightly when the angle became awkward. His hand came up to cup the opposite side of Cas’ cheek, as he guided him, and Dean let out a soft whimper. Cas leaned back on the bed, pulling Dean with him, and moaned quietly. Dean shifted, putting a knee on either side of Cas’ hips, and licked at the angel’s lips. Cas opened up for him immediately. He reached up to grab a handful of Dean’s hair, tugged sharply, and the hunter broke away from him with a whine. Cas relaxed his grip and massaged his scalp gently.  
“Don’t do that,” Dean said, between hot breaths, “Sam’s here.” Cas pulled a little more, and Dean let out a breathy groan.  
“He can’t hear us,” Cas assured him. “He won’t be out for awhile.” He seemed certain. Dean believed him.  
“Fuck,” Dean swore. “Cas.” The word was breathy, and was followed by another sharp groan when Cas pulled his hair again.  
“Do you want me to stop?” Cas asked him. He let go of Dean’s hair, but kept his hand there. The other trailed up his leg and across his ass. His fingers dipped into the waistband of his jeans. Dean was breathing heavily against his neck. His hips were still moving absently against Cas’ still body. “Dean?” Cas prompted. His voice was calm, but Dean could feel the angel’s hard on through his slacks.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean said. “Do some mojo prep and get in me.” He felt the angel’s breath stutter beneath him, and felt a sense of triumph flood his body. Dean smiled when Cas started undoing his jeans frantically and realised it wasn’t triumph he’d felt, but grace. “Get ‘em off, angel,” he muttered. His clothes vanished. Literally. Dean kissed the, now naked, angel beneath him. He didn’t think about how blasphemous this probably was. Fucking-  _Getting fucked by_ -an angel of the Lord had to be a sin. Sodomy and all that. But he didn’t care. He’d met God, and Dean decided that if He didn’t like what they were doing then He could take a hike.

He reached behind himself to line Cas up before he sank down on his cock. Cas’ hands came up to hold the juncture of his thighs. Dean opened his eyes, (when did he close them?) to see Cas staring up at him with overwhelming emotion. Emotion he didn’t want to name, just in case he was wrong. He started moving, rolling his hips gently, and laid a hand on Cas’ chest to steady himself. “Dean,” Cas let out, and the hunter leaned down so they were chest to chest. The change of angle knocked him breathless. Castiel kissed him, and laced his hand back through his hair, and they rocked together. Dean’s dick rubbed against Cas’ abdomen and the dry friction made him clench around Cas’ length. “So beautiful,” Cas muttered again, with a sharp tug in his hair. Dean whined. He dropped his forehead to Cas’ collarbone. His breath brushed against the angel’s taught nipples. “My beautiful, beautiful Dean,” the angel said. “Taking me so well.”  
“Cas,” Dean whimpered, and the other man tugged his hair again.  
“You’re doing so well,” Cas said. “You’re so good.” Dean groaned against him. His dick leaked precome on Cas’ abdomen, making the slide easier. “So good for me, beautiful Dean,” Cas praised him.

He couldn’t take anymore. He came between them in hot spurts, his body shuddering against Cas’ skin, with a lengthy groan. Cas held him close and rolled Dean till he had him on his back. He started thrusting into him quicker, wrenching an oversensitive moan from Dean, who wrapped his arms around Cas’ shoulders. “Come on, baby,” Dean said, “Fuck me until you come.” Cas mouthed at the sweaty skin of Dean’s neck. “Come on, I wanna see it,” he said. “Come in me, Cas, come on, I want you to.” Dean locked his ankles around Cas’ waist. “Come on, baby, you can do it,” he encouraged. Cas stilled suddenly, as he let out a shaky moan, and Dean felt liquid warmth paint his insides.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, breathing hotly in each other’s space, before Cas’ pulled his head up to look at Dean. “Sam will be out soon,” he warned. Dean didn’t open his eyes. Cas kissed his lips gently and pulled out of him. “Dean?”  
“Tired,” Dean managed. Cas smiled. He waved his hand and they were both clean, dry and clothed. Dean didn’t complain. He could still feel Cas’ come in him. He rolled onto his side and let himself drift off.

Sam emerged from the bathroom, clad in a sleep tee and boxer shorts, and assessed the situation before him. Cas was sitting on Sam’s bed, patiently, and watching Dean sleep. “He called you?” Sam asked. The angel stood up and turned towards the taller man with a nod. He reached up and pressed two fingers to his forehead, deftly, and Sam felt his injuries heal. “Thanks,” he said. Cas smiled in response and crossed the room to shrug off his overcoat and suit jacket. He draped them over one of the motel chairs carefully, followed by his tie, and turned back to Dean. Sam watched him climb onto the bed next to Dean, staying above the covers, and pull the man into his arms. Sam grimaced when he noticed that Cas hadn’t been wearing shoes. “Oh Jesus, did you guys just do it?” he said, with another wince. Cas met his eyes. “Fuck, never mind, I don’t wanna know,” Sam backtracked.

He flipped off the light and climbed into his own bed. Dean was snoring lightly. He settled into the ragged mattress and closed his eyes. “No funny business while I’m in the room,” Sam said. He opened his eyes when Cas didn’t reply. “Okay?”  
“Okay, Sam,” Cas replied quietly. 

Sam let out a breath, and closed his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short destiel pwp 
> 
> Let me know what you think


End file.
